


Of Wolf And Prey

by HetfieldsMetalBby



Category: Metallica
Genre: Based on a Metallica Song, M/M, Metallica References
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:13:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27356302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HetfieldsMetalBby/pseuds/HetfieldsMetalBby
Summary: During the recording of The Black Album, James catches himself with Jason in the hotel room every Friday after the recording session. He is not sure how to feel about that given the fact that he is almost 100% sure he is straight so he runs to alcohol despite his subconscious telling him that he doesn't need alcohol to be with Jason.
Relationships: James Hetfield/Jason Newsted
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	Of Wolf And Prey

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a roleplay between me @hetfields.metal.bby on instagram (as James) and @bloodybetsy on instagram (as Jason). I hope you all will enjoy this first chapter and Im sorry about grammar mistakes, I just copied and pasted it from instagram dms!

JAMES P.O.V  
Recording of the new album was supposed to be fun for all of us. And while I was doing my best to have as much fun as possible, there was a certain amount of darkness inside of me that could only be killed, or at least put to sleep, when I had alcohol in my body and when my favorite punching bag, known by others as Jason, was there to clench the kind of thrist that water can't satisfy.  
I was sitting at the local bar, after ordering my third double shot of vodka. Everyone at the bar didn't seem to care whether I was James Hetfield from Metallica or just a random, tall, angry-looking fella. Since it was Friday, Lars wasn't drinking with me, Kirk probably had other things to do and I was sitting alone.  
Well, alone up until I heard the bar door open. Its funny how sadness can connect people because I felt like I've knew Jason so well, that I could actually recognize his footsteps.  
"I told you not follow me here", I growled, not looking at Jason but instead fixing my gaze on the empty gl-glass in front of as I gestured the bartender to pour me another glass, "Do you need something, huh?"

JASON P.O.V

James' voice was not the kindest, when I looked at him, his position towards me actually seemed hostile.  
But James could seem hostile even in the best of situations, and that wasn't always a bad sign. That wasn't what had me following him to that bar I knew he would run to. No, if I was there now, with someone who seemed to want nothing to do with me, it was because in the studio, something about James had caught my attention.  
He had been very serious, very serious. Almost absent. Now that I saw him sitting in front of the glass of alcohol, I knew something was going on. Like so many other times.  
"And you?" Returning the question seemed to me the best answer.  
Sometimes I find it funny how in certain situations we keep dealing with the coldness of strangers, after all. From his expression, he must not have found it so funny. My question seemed to have irritated him even more than my presence had.

JAMES P.O.V

I could almost feel Jason being nervous around me and I was thriving in the feeling of power. Slightly turning my head, I glanced at him. Poor guy literally went from feeling confident in his question to looking like a scared wolf cub.  
"Newkid, sit down, I won't bite man", I said to him, changing the atmosphere from passive agressive to calm, "Ya'know I'm a nice guy after a few drinks"

Even the bartender chuckled at that so I knew I had complete control over Jason's next move. He sat down next to me and looked at me with his soft blue eyes.  
"You here to take me to the hotel room?", I asked him with a mischievous smirk.  
Nothing too obvious because I didn't want to look like a fag to anyone but him. Jason knew exactly what I meant.

JASON P.O.V

His question was not particularly blatant - although his laugh was - and yet I looked down unconsciously, and assumed that my cheeks had turned red. All his words could take on a second, twisted meaning in my head, and besides, that was the meaning they now had.  
His gesture, now friendlier, his words also kinder; they meant exactly what I thought. They meant that James was now pure animal instinct, that he was going to go after his prey, which presumably was me; and that once his needs were calmed, or whatever moved him, he was going to be angry, and very angry.  
I'm still not quite sure why, since his excuse changes every time.  
The point is that he becomes angry. And that's not exactly good for me. And I know that, and the scars from previous fights on my body know that too.  
But I also know that now I'm going to nod, I know that I'm going to look up and I'm going to tone my eyes, and I know that he's going to smile and I'm not going to cost anything.  
The drunken man's dazed smile hangs from his lips, but I know he's not drunk, not completely. I know this because I feel something premeditated in his way of acting with me, and when he is drunk that doesn't happen.  
"Yes, like every time you disappear and make a fuss, I've come to rescue you..." I smile at him as he answers, a faint, almost resigned smile.  
My answer covers up, of course, many things that only James and I are aware of. With his sly smile James tells me that he has understood that with that phrase I show my total consent for what happens next.  
As I think about that "later", I look down again.

JAMES P.O.V  
And just like that, I knew I won him over. Although he seemed very stiff with his movement, he was saying more with his eyes and the tone of his voice. I claimed that one, it was reserved to me and only me.  
I slowly took a sip of my drink, with my gaze now fixed on Jason's eyes, asserting full dominance since he almost immediately looked down. Yet, I still didn't know why I insisted on this game we played. Wouldn't it just be easier to confront him, man to man, tell him exactly what I expect him to do instead of my desire to prove to him that I'm an alpha?  
Jason may not know it yet, but I knew he enjoyed every second of watching me swallow that drink and lightly put the glass back onto the bar.  
"Rescue me?", I asked him, fully aware that my voice now sounded deeper, "I'm not sure about rescuing, it kind of feels like you're only here to bother me"  
Of course, this was just teasing and he knew it. I needed to see how much he wanted me because ever since we started recording the the album, I felt like I actually preferred his company more than the company of random girls that just come to the hotel room knowing exactly what to do and then leave before the sunrise. With Jason, it was different. At night, I could be the most passionate, loving man to him but the second we step foot in the studio, I would become distant to him, talking to him only when I'm yelling. In this case, alcohol helped.  
I raised my hand to signal the bartender that I'm ready to pay up and leave. I could almost smell Jason's energy changing the moment I raised that hand.

JASON P.O.V

Everything in him has the strange capacity to take me to strange limits of mind. Even his smallest movements. Everything exuded that essence that cried out : "Here I am, and I 'm made for this, and for whatever. I am made for power, to be admired."  
He was like someone out of a Western movie, sitting on that stool wrapped in the smell of alcohol. With that mischievous cowboy gesture on his face, which made something inside me squirm. Something made me feel real admiration for every feature of him, something that made me want him to know about that admiration.  
But all I can do is laugh gently at his feigned protest, and wait impatiently for the bartender to charge him.  
I am nervous. As always, because I feel that I don't have any kind of decision-making power at the moment; that I don't control anything that might happen.  
He decided to reciprocate my insecure attempt to approach him by coming to this bar, he decided to raise his arm and let me know that he would come with me. He decided the how, the when, the where.  
And I tremble with anticipation and happiness every time he decided he wanted my company.  
I know that although I try to keep my face peaceful, my eyes, my gesture; they let my joy show, I know that he sees in my gesture that enthusiasm of the puppy that is rewarded with the caresses of its owner.  
In this case the caresses were his response and the new tone of his voice. More intense, more dragging.  
I feel helpless, embarrassed. But also excited. He is able to change my way of being.  
Now I would like to approach him, and show him my gratitude, my happiness, my pride in being someone he wants to be with. I feel the need to bend down at his side, to remain under his wings, to embrace him and to rest my head on his lap. Sometimes I feel that need, to tell him, to repeat to him many times. "I am yours"

JAMES P.O.V

I could feel Jason's excitement and we both knew he was doing his best to hide it. So, I decided that I had no time to waste and as soon as the bartender came, I gently slammed the money on the table and got up, finxing my cowboy hat.  
The thing was, I needed Jason fresh like this and I needed to be done with it before the alcohol leaves my body because as soon as it does, the denial is gonna posses me and I think rejection is the last thing both Jason and I needed at this point.  
Ever since Jason joined us, he felt nothing but blame and bullying but somehow, I was able to see through his acceptance of the poistion he was in and use it in my advantage. But now, I felt like he was more than just an occasional lover to me because he was there - in this same bar - every Friday after our recording session with Bob. There was a pattern there, and as innocent as Jason seemed, he was aware that I needed him.  
As these thoughts flew through my brain, I have come to the realization that its pprobably just alcohol speaking. I was the master and he was a toy – a puppy – who needed something from me as much as I needed it from him.  
So without any words, just a small gesture of my hand, Jason got up and we both walked out of the bar into busy Friday night street.  
“So, Newkid, I recon you’ve been a good boy during this weeks rehearsals?”, I whispered to him, knowing its going to drive him insane but at the same time prepared for what was about to come, “I don’t need to pull your leash and punish you?”  
I might need another beer after this.

JASON P.O.V

That's it. Those words had been the culmination of this game, there was no turning back. What was going to happen that night had already been decided for good. James was testing me, taking me step by step, little by little to the limit. I was being pushed into a corner, and what's worse, I was the one walking into the abyss. He was behind me, just as he was now on that busy street, and just as he had now, he was whispering to me like a snake charmer. A tamer.  
His subtle threat of the possibility of punishment if I didn't behave as I should, was like a shot of adrenaline, one more push in the direction I was already walking. Without realizing it, I stood there, my breath altered, imagining the touch of the leather on my neck.  
James crashed into me. I could feel his warm breath behind me, very close, in contrast to the cold evening breeze.  
We were in public, and the hotel was not far away, but the first step was already taken and I did not see myself able to contain the reaction he was clearly looking for.  
I also said it in a whisper, that if he hadn't been closer now by crashing into my back, it would have died on my lips without James ever hearing it. I uttered it without thinking, the words pouring out of my mouth, and there was nothing I could do.  
"I'm a good boy for you."  
A slow, deep chuckle reached my ears. He was satisfied, it was the laughter of the one who gets what he expects. And I want to give him what he expects. Although I shouldn't, even if he only uses me, even if going back again and again to the place where you will be destroyed is inhuman and painful. If you look at it coldly, it's not worth that incredible feeling of be of him and needed by him, not when it's followed by such remoteness, such indifference, such heartbreaking apathy. I feel that he uses me when his needs are too strong, and that he throws me away once he's satisfied. I feel like a whore hired once a week as just another service, as something meant to fulfill that need and leave. But I come back, I always come back. And I love it, and all the pain I can feel is worth doing this.  
I kept walking, the hotel was already at the end of the street, and I walked especially upright, almost elegant, just because I knew who was behind me.  
And I knew that the faint rubbing that has been repeated along the way in the area where my jeans are worn out from sitting, was him.  
When we reached the luminous entrance of the place, guarded by some imposing glass doors, we stopped. And I, again irrationally, dropped one of the cigarettes in my pocket on the ground.  
And I bent down, so close to James that I could smell the shoe polish on his boots and the detergent he uses for his jeans. I got up, slowly as if the cold had frozen my body.  
And absent-mindedly I reached for his ear when I finally stood up, to whisper something to him without people around us even knowing I had spoken. I was just a boy who had bent down to pick something up off the ground.  
"But you don't need an excuse to tie me up, do you, Het?"  
Trying to keep my body from crashing to the ground by being aware of what I had just done, I turned around and opened the glass doors. That had lasted a few seconds and yet I had the feeling that a task of Herculean proportions had been completed.

JAMES P.O.V

I never liked walking behind people because it felt like I was following them and it should be the other way round. Still, I let Newkid lead the way, watching every his every step carefully up until the hotel enterance,where he bluntly kneeled down to pick up a cigarette. I felt like he was teasing me, maybe trying to play the game that I had been playing all along.  
I was following his movements in the reflection on the glass door. Just how slowly he was picking up that cigarette and how his body was almost rejecting to get up from that position. Like his subconscious was aware that that's exactly the way it should be. It was too public for me to do anything about it, even my drunken mind knew that so I decided to play along for a while. Jason was very much aware of the fact that I couldn't do much in public so he could tease me and do whatever. Public spots were reserved for hidden messages expressed with body movements. But as soon as we were alone in the studio or in the hotelthe hotel room (especially the hotel room), it was my playground.  
And then he got up, looked straight at me and muttered those words before sqiftly turning his back at me and opening the glass door. He knew he messed up so I just let out a quiet growl to let him know that to which I could almost feel his body shivered. I needed to let him know of what's about to come before we get to the room, just so that he can wait in anticipation, knowing only the brief summary of tonight's events.  
I lazily waved at the hotel clerk, letting her know that I'll be heading to my room with the same young man she had seen every Friday. This time, I thought of bringing him over tomorrow as well, either to make myself seem like this was nothing serious or the opposite of that. As soon as the clerk was out of the way and we were standing alone, waiting for the elevator to come down, I took an opportunity to strike.  
Moving closer to Jason from behind, being aware that everything was quiet but the squeaking of my leather boots, the ticking of the elevator and, of course, the sound of Jason's slightly fast, uneven breathing pattern, I reached out for his hair, gently pulling it just enough for him to feel it but not make a sound.  
"That thing you just did in front of this place", I whispered, getting closer to his ear, "That has cost you another day in this room."  
Now,of course, that wasn't the only reason I'd invite him to stay there for two days but I needed him to think that. Hell, I needed myself to think that. It was better to blame it on a silly mistake then blame it on the fact that I might just be falling for this man. For his obedience, endless admiration of me and his touch.  
I decided not to soften my grip on his curly, messy hair even when the elevator finally came down. He stood still, like a good trained puppy, as the automatic doors opened.  
"Oh, Newkid, won't you ask me for a permission to enter the elevator, like a good boy should?", I asked with a dose of teasing in my voice.

JASON P.O.V

His grip on my hair was strong and secure, even now that I was barely pulling on it. He didn't need to do it to get his control.  
It was sending me signs of faint pain that were, however, contradictory in my brain. I could feel the warmth of his hand brushing against my scalp, and pulling gently; his voice hoarse from the alcohol and tobacco caressing me.  
I knew that after my little outburst he would mark his territory. James needs to do this, he needs to have the last word. And what sublime words, what a warm feeling they gave me in my stomach.  
Just as in the bar, the desire to tell him a thousand and one times that yes, I am willing to show him how a good guy I can be is born again in me. That I want him to hold my legs, my wrists, my hips, my neck, just like he holds my hair now. That I know I have been impertinent and that I will take my punishment. Although being locked up in his room for two days seems more like a reward.  
Or maybe no? Will he be especially rude this time, will you be cruel? At the thought of it my lips curl into a intoxicated smile. He is always cruel.  
Now he is being cruel, he knows that with him I can be many things, but that in public I am a shy boy. And now there are people around.  
And I could feel myself almost shaking, and I wanted to close my eyes and let myself fall, but we were in public. What would they say if they knew...  
The elevator doors were probably about to close, and I was still doing nothing, just focused on the feeling of that grip, that hand holding my hair, the scene around which my entire universe seemed to gravitate now.  
And James pulled my hair again. I could almost feel his chest behind me, rising and falling. Going up and down. He wasn't breathing fast, but slow and deep. Like a wolf preparing to hover over its prey.  
A drowned "fuck" came out of my lips, as if my throat was being squeezed. Which was not yet happening.  
With that jerk, it let me know that I had to respond. Because that is what is expected of me. Because it is what he wants. Because I want to do what he wants me to do.

Pretending to stretch out as if I were sleepy, I raised my arms and tiptoed my lower back to his crotch, touching it; playing with limits. I didn’t know why I was doing it, I’m not daring, I’m not like that.  
But again my body decides for itself at the slightest action of James; and I find myself doing things I never thought I would do.  
“Het, James please, can I get in the elevator? Let’s go quickly James, for God’s sake…”  
I asked him as quietly as I could, and without thinking until after I had done it about how ridiculous and unworthy it must have sounded. So pleading, so humiliating.  
I knew that after a few days I would regret everything, and I would feel ashamed. But now I would have knelt right there if I didn’t know that I could only make small gestures in public.  
I would have knelt, in fact my knees seemed to become inoperative under my weight; I would have knelt before those cowboy boots that I love so much, and I would have smiled thankfully that I could kneel before James.

JAMES P.O.V

Jason used my weakness. He pleaded to get inside the elevator, and I had actually obayed that. In the very last moment, I let go of his hair, and gently pushed him inside the elevator, my eyes following the door as it closed the outside world from us, leaving Jason vulnerable.  
That small gesture on my crotch was enough to make my member hard and I hated the fact that I got hard on Jason, of all people. I let out a deep sigh as I pressed the button on the elevator. Knowing Jason expected me to say something about what just happened while we were waiting for the elevator, I decided not to say a word, not even look at him. Saying anything at this point would be a reward and keeping quiet would be the worst punishment there is. Let him think about it while I calmly wait for the elevator doors to open. The elevator ride itself passed very quickly, but I had a feeling it wasn’t as quick for Jason and as soon as the doors to the hotel corridors opened, I got the keys out of my pocket and slowly walked into my territory. I let the sound of my boots mixed with the jingling of the keys sink deep inside Jason as he followed me to my room. Now, as things were supposed to be, he was the one behind me and I was leading the way.  
I slowly placed the key into the keyhole, turning it around and pushing the door to open a cosy bedroom that has only been used exclusively for sleeping for a week. The room itself smelled of my heavy cologne and leather because I didn’t let anyone inside for a week. My clothes were all over the place and Jason wasn’t used to seeing my room in such a state because I usually did my best to make it look decent, in case I bring a girl over for the night. Not this time.  
This time the room represented everything I was feeling inside – an utter mess. Jason slowly walked inside, bringing a new smell to the room so that now my nose could only pick out his scent out of all the heavy smells in the room, and follow that smell. I knew that by the time the weekend is over, the sheets are only going to smell of this curly man, making me go absolutely crazy. But I would worry about that later. Now I had better things to do.

I slammed the door behind me so hard that the poor man jumped a bit, luring out a smirk from me. I threw the keys onto the counter in the main hallway of the hotel apartment and opened a bottle of beer with my teeth, taking a few refreshing sips that would get me ready for what’s about to come.  
“So… Newkid”, I said to him, not needing to keep my voice down anymore, “What to do with you, hm? You tried to tease me in public when I told you that’s strictly forbidden. Then you lie about being a good boy, when we all know you weren’t such a good boy, huh?”  
With that last sentence, I grabbed his jaw, not too aggressively, and moved towards him, pressing my lips against his cheek ,as I muttered seductively, “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

JASON P.O.V

What to say, what to answer. What to do to keep up. Not just any height, his height. His unattainable height. He was by my side, and his lips brushed against me. His voice reached me like the crackling of a fireplace, but much warmer.  
I was melting. The words were not coming out of my mouth, a moment ago, everything seemed simple. Looking into his eyes, provoking him; and now I simply wanted to let myself be carried away by his hands.  
His hand was still holding my jaw, he was not hurting me, it was only reminding me how small I was next to him, it was a faint promise that there was much more behind that demonstration of power. That the night could still take a thousand different forms.  
The question still echoed in my ear, reducing me to a child listening to the firm words of an adult. It was difficult to find the answer, and yet the answer was so clear that it seemed to be in plain sight. But he wanted me to formulate my own answer. He wanted to hear it.  
And who was I to hold back the thoughts that crowded into my head.  
I came a little closer, to increase the contact between his lips and my skin, like a longing being, which with him, is what I was.  
“I don’t know… “I told him, unsure. But then he tightened his grip, indicating that this response was not the expected.  
“Well… I think I would be very angry. I’d show the little boy who disobeyed me where he belonged. I have forgotten, and I want to learn to be a good boy for you. Will you teach me?” I said at last, with my words interrupted by my sighs and my erratic breath. A laugh came out of his mouth, which reminded me of a devil, playful, deep. I wanted to hear that laugh forever, I wanted James to never get tired of me, to never get to work, to never run away. I wanted him never to tire of me being his own, and maybe that’s why I now felt this need to be there for him. In every way.  
My body was already responding to the game. And James knew. James knew that my crotch was already throbbing. And I had a feeling that the blond man I worshipped as a God was going to have fun pushing me to the limit. But that’s why I went back to look for him every week, isn’t it?  
Because I wanted to see, to feel James in all his glory; in his magnificent, and sometimes ruthless splendor. I wanted him, as he is now, to be happy being the born alpha that he was, to give him the satisfaction of submitting me. To give me the satisfaction of being used.  
Because I knew I was being used. In more ways than one. And yet, I still wanted to, I still felt that my place was at his side, at his feet. Like a tame cat that sticks to its master's legs. I wanted to worship him; and I wanted, when he had long treated me gently, to provoke him to madness, until he became a hungry lion, until he became rough and cruel, to reassert his dominance. I wanted to feel that dominance, as long as possible.  
James had barely reacted to my response, had barely done anything yet; but my mere thoughts, the anticipation of what might happen, made a kind of purr echo in my throat; and I was sure James had noticed it. That and the lump in my crotch.

JAMES P.O.V

I didn’t see it, but I knew it was turning him on. That dirty curly man. I scoffed, aggressively turning away from his jaw as I turned my back on him. Time for more alcohol.  
I could feel his frightened look behind my back which is a little thing I learned because of hunting. Knowing he wouldn’t dare to look at me straight in the eyes, I gave myself the luxury of taking time when it comes to those few sips of beer. The room felt so quiet but not in an uncomfortable way. At least not to me which is not something I could say about the stiff figure behind me.  
I could almost hear every “clang” sound my rings produced when they came in the contact with the bottle that seemed like my only comfort zone in this moment. The truth was, everyone (especially Jason) thought I knew what I was doing. Like I was born this alpha who knew when and how exactly to assert the dominance. Almost everyone but Lars and Bob was almost trembling in my presence, some interviewers even called me scary.  
If I were honest with myself, and I was rarely that, I would say that I don’t know why or how I became this frightening tall man who was associated with aggression. In my eyes, at the end of the day, I was the same scared boy, stuck at 16, crying over my mother and obeying my father.  
These thoughts made me feel such anger that i needed to take out on someone. Luckily, Jason was just in the need of some good old discipline.  
I slammed the bottle onto the nightstand, hearing a little gasp escape Jason’s mouth. He was my pray now and he knew it. I turned to him and devilishly smirked, slowly approachim him.  
“Jason”, I said that emphasizing every letter of his name, “You want me to show you where you belong, right?”. As I said this rhetorical question, I decided to surprise him by grabbing his crotch which was unbelievably hard for the beginning of our session. He could see how surprised I was but I didn’t care because now my confidence was just raised and I was ready to dominate the crap out of this boy.

“Oh?”, I gasped sarcastically, “You like this? You like being talked down too, don’t you?”. I barely let him answer as I unbuckled my belt, aggressively and loudly taking it out and snapping it right before his face.  
“Its time to show you some discipline then. Something I haven’t given to you before so I’ll tell you how this’ll be done”, I said, gently hitting the palm of my hand with the folded belt, barely able to contain my smirk, “You’ll now take off those pants and I’ll sit back and watch you as you do it. Then, it’ll be ass up for you but you won’t get pleasure because pain comes first for naughty boys. If you disobey, I’ll have to tie you down. Got it?”


End file.
